


1 Song/Night (One Song Per Night)

by arisanite



Series: The Coffee Diva [1]
Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Bands, Coffee Shop, Coincidences, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Serendipity - Freeform, Slow Build, female singer - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 03:16:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/895143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arisanite/pseuds/arisanite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're an aspiring singer with an irregular gig at a friends's coffee shop every night after work. You manage to enchant someone with the way you passionately sing... who happened to be quite famous. But you still have no idea who he is.</p><p>Debuted at thfrustration.tumblr.com</p>
            </blockquote>





	1 Song/Night (One Song Per Night)

Your friends have probably been patrons of that coffee shop for years, considering that you’ve been hanging around that place since you guys were still University students. Your group has been there for so long that your lead guitarist has been best friends with the owner at one point, almost throwing you guys out when half of the boys were drunk. They made up eventually, and now your group has a permanent space near the veranda, where your singing is best heard by most of the patrons.

Now if there’s one thing about your group of friends who hang about this coffee shop, is the fact that majority of them are Music Majors, excluding you and your ex-boyfriend who were Communication Arts students. But they knew you could sing, and despite not being a professional musician – they could say that you do have the voice. So instead of installing the typical coffee-shop sound track (which they still have for the mornings), you and your group would perform every night on the coffee shop second floor.

Most of your songs just fit the location well, you’d sing ballads, they’d play love songs, and you’d just be having fun, reminiscing and enjoying the time amidst the fact that you're providing the mood of the café.

You sure have had some admirers – at least of your voice – you just didn’t expect this one man who walks in your café heaven one silent, moody evening.

  
  
  


 

***

 

You didn’t really recognize him at first, since you and your buddies would usually be perched on the top of the veranda with your acoustic instruments, tambourines, maracas, and what have you; doing your usual thing, having fun and ignoring the small chatter of people downstairs.

There was a small amount of people on the second floor, most of them just listening to your little band of ragtag musicians. He was a new addition to the scene, taking a seat near the glass windows and walls which lead to your group’s personal veranda.

You, being one of the very few girls in the group, and the one who’s often singing, was busy belting your voice out at such a given time, as if the macchiato didn’t scorch your throat earlier.

 

_It was a cold and rainy night_

_I remember it was after midnight_

_We were surrounded by the sound of the city_

_And the buzzing of the lights_

 

It just so happened that this was your favorite song at the moment; and you had a cute boy who barely noticed you at work in mind while you were singing it. Probably it was in your expression, or how you sang it… Your friends actually said that it was a very moving performance…

 

_'Oh what was it about you then_

_That was different_

_An infinitive moment_

_That's changin' both our minds_

 

You didn’t notice how he smiled as he listened to you sing, taking his black coffee… admiring the way you sang as he brushed a thumb over his trimly cut beard, trying not to run his hands over his gelled gold curls, probably amused that he has found a nice act about town at a very odd hour. You were too busy singing your heart out, and watching your ex-boyfriend tap his tambourine repeatedly on his knee.

 

_And it's how this all started_

_Oh baby I just want you to know_

_It's hard to say maybe but maybe_

_This time we won't let it go_

 

It was a sweet song after all, reminded you of those days when this particular ex-boyfriend was teasing you… Well you did have a falling out, but now you’re both on good terms… Why else would you still be in the same informal band after a few years? You have fallen in love with this song again after a bitter falling out with it, and made your heart light up during that nice cold night you were spending with the guys… You had no idea how it’s making someone else giddy inside…

 

_I can't believe it's only yesterday_

_That I was me and you were only you_

_I'm not gonna say it's us now_

_I don't wanna become a cliche_

 

_And I know it's me who'll be a little shy_

_But I want to keep it all the same_

_'Coz of the way it all started_

 

You don’t realize it, but despite your distance, he was starting to notice you… The color of your hair, your little button nose… He may be admiring the way you sang, but there’s that magic in that song that made one’s heart rise with the promise and hope of a new love… And you were screaming out this hope silently without anyone else noticing…

By the time your voice rose towards the end of the song, your bandmates were already noticing how passionate your performance was, making them wonder what’s gotten into you. They keep silent and just hike up their performance as well, setting a brilliant and wonderful mood in the café that night… You swear that you’d either wake up the neighboring apartments or get a standing ovation after…

Oh how wonderful it felt having the chance to sing your heart out.

 

_And maybe if we could give this one more try_

_Maybe this time it will work out right…_

 

You finished with a bang as you close your eyes, savoring the cold autumn wind in your face.

To your surprise, there was a roar of applause behind you. Ecstatic, your bandmates look around, used to the kind of small attention you’d get every night. That’s when you notice him, giving your friends a standing ovation in his dark blue leather jeans and that formal looking waistcoast and polo – with a wide grin, those sparkling blue eyes set on you. “Bravo! Bravo!”

There was something about his gait and his aura that made you blush. You silently just nod as you tried not to slip on the side of the couch you’re sitting on, as you tip your beret-style hat to him.

 

***

 

It seems like you have gained a new fan.

The boys would usually tease  _you_  when there was a new boy hanging around the place; since your other girlfriend wouldn’t usually sing – she’d just do backup vocals. Now there’s only two of you would usually sing, and the other is this big burly guy who’d rather do nice deep reggae songs that make you feel as if you’re just hanging around in the beach by a bonfire. But this time, they kind of notice that you’d seem to have a  _permanent_ fan.

He’d be sitting there, usually present at 9pm sharp (or otherwise) with his cup of black coffee, or Earl Grey Tea… sometimes with a Frappuccino or an iced drink, but he’d be there… Either in that weird looking leather jacket or that comfy black cardigan. You never really had the time to ask about who he is, but you’d been hearing a buzz in the management about a regular who seems to be a well-known personality…

 

You don’t think it’s him.

 

Well what would you care, they’d say you’re living the life of a hippie but you haven’t been updated with the news lately. You’re either too busy taking calls or doing errands for your company, that the only way for you to relax is to take that maracas and spend the rest of the night half singing, half joking with your old Uni buddies...

You’d still have that string and setup of favorite love songs in your head, but you usually have a consensus with the boys and sing a popular song that you were fond of towards those certain moments. It still usually beats the café playlist with how random and impromptu it is.

And you wouldn’t notice it, and he wouldn’t be usually looking at your band as he read through his messages on his phone, or browsing over the day’s newspaper… but this tall gentleman would usually frequent the café at late nights to listen to your band sing.

 

To be more specific, to listen to  _you_.

 

 

***

 

There was that one time you came late due to that fucked up overtime you had to deal with during the middle of the week, and you arrive at the café half-hurried and stressed at around 11pm, when you bumped into someone who was already on their way out.

 

“Sorry,” the man whispered, as you detect a hint of an English accent.

 

You wave your hand off to acknowledge his apology as you step aside and go right inside to run up the stairs, so that you can alert your friends (and especially your friend who has been singing his Big Mountain songs for over an hour) that you have already arrived.

You didn’t notice that the man who was supposed to go out, took a second look at your braided hair (considering that you always have your hair loose when you sing), recognizing you… before he held the door for a few minutes as he thought about leaving… and eventually went back inside.

You were wondering if you were still going to sing that night since you were just too tired and there was a possibility that you’d lose your voice the next day if you actually continued due to the harsh shouting-match you had with your supervisor. Your friend with the shaggy haircut suggested you buy yourself some tea from downstairs so you’d avoid that possibility.

So you sadly trudge down the stairs, making your way for the counter, half-relieved that you get to rest your throat and half-disappointed that you probably won’t get to sing a note at all that night…

 

You smile at one of the barista’s on duty – the new one they just hired a month ago, as you look up at the menu, trying to decide which tea you’re going to mull over as you listen to your friend’s rendition of “Only One” echoing upstairs...

 

“Not singing tonight?” You recognize the familiar voice.

 

You turn to your left to find the same tall gentleman who held the door for you earlier, seeming to be mulling over the menu as well.

You smile at what seemed to be one of your bands’ admirer and shook your head. “Probably not,” you said in a low voice – gesturing to your throat.

He sadly smiled as he slipped a hand in his blazer, as he looked at you again, blue eyes twinkling. You didn’t really take another look but you realize that he’s tall. Like… fucking tall. A fucking six-footer on the loose.

 

“That’s a shame,” you hear the disappointment in his voice. “I was looking forward to one of your sessions.”

 

You subtly turn in his direction, trying to hide a sheepish grin. You tried concentrating on the menu, but you find yourself taking stolen glances of this man… That thick curly gold hair, those deep-set blue eyes, that strong, firm jawline…  _Man, he is pretty_ , you think to yourself, trying to hurry up on deciding which tea to order –

“You might want to try that Mint tea,” he said, pointing to the menu as if he read your mind. “It should be soothing for your throat. Might get your voice back in no time.”

Impressed, you smile as you notice the barista slightly gawking at the two of you – well specifically at this gentleman.

 

“What he said,” you manage to croak out at the shocked girl who then nodded and prepared your order.

 

You wince a bit as you take out your cash as he stood there, watching you talk to the cashier. He actually stood there the entire time as you strained to converse to the cashier and the barista with your aching throat, till you finally got the tea you ordered in your hands.

You were about to make your way back upstairs to join your band when you notice him still standing there.

 

“Thanks,” you mutter awkwardly as he returns you a warm grin.

He doesn’t move from his spot at all, maybe just a bit to watch you climb the stairs as you attempt to cool your drink before you can get to your couch.

You didn’t notice him leave the café at all with some sort of a satisfied (yet slightly disappointed) smile on his face once you were out of his sight and was already at the second floor.

 

***

 

The buzz in the café started to get louder, about a well-known actor visiting it every night. The news actually reached your band and the boys – being a bunch of movie buffs that were in the theatre once in a while. It seemed that the baristas have already pinpointed the time when this actor would be in the café, and he would usually leave during the wee hours of the morning – just when your friends have packed up and gone.

 

“They said that he was in this famous action ensemble movie…”

“No, you might be referring to another guy…”

“Is he that guy who played this Captain in this war movie…”

“I believe he’s British…”

 

You on the other hand, were too busy listening to your playlist in your iPod shuffle to even give a damn if a celebrity was frequenting the café you usually went to, and sang in. You didn’t notice that your friends were looking at you the entire time, since you were the only one not paying attention to the important conversation.

“What?” you say, not realizing that they weren’t looking at you – but at that tall man who was sitting at the table behind the glass window you’re leaning on, drinking his cup of tea, pretending that he wasn’t watching you.

They shake their heads miserably at how oblivious you are about things as you grunt at them about singing a new song, putting your iPod and earphones aside.

 

“What are you going to sing?” your guitarist friend asks.

 

You smile as you look up at the thatched ceiling, feeling a bit happy with the cold air blowing in your face. “Like A Star,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “By Corinne Bailey Rae. We played this before, haven’t we?”

Your friends grimace as they set up their instruments based on your request, as you close your eyes… about to sink into your trance singing again…

 

And once again, you fill the café with your relaxing voice.

 

_Just like a star across my sky,_

_Just like an angel off the page,_

_You have appeared to my life,_

_Feel like I'll never be the same,_

_Just like a song in my heart,_

_Just like oil on my hands,_

_Honor to love you…_

 

What you don’t realize is that he’s currently savoring your voice, filling his head with your music… as he tweets these words to a thousand followers online: “Song of the Day: Like A Star by Corinne Bailey Rae”.

 

 

***

 

You start taking notice of the man with the peculiar smile hanging around the café when your band plays its random songs, usually occupying the table near the veranda, just behind the glass wall and the double doors. You bump in him near the counter once in a while, but all you exchange are awkward smiles and small “hello’s”. And during the entire time, you never really bothered to ask his name, or how the weather is and why he preferred mint for a bad throat day.

Most of the time, he’d just be behind the glass doors, listening to you sing your ballads as your entire band would once in a while gawk at him in wonder… And then stare at you as if you are a moron.

Whenever he would catch you looking at him after a song, he’d flash you that nice warm grin and raise his glass to you, as you’d just nod in courtesy as you avoid the heckles and catcalling you’d receive from your friends.

One night, your guitarist friend asks you again what you would like to sing – after getting tired from listening to your friend who has been singing Jason Mraz’s “I’m Yours” for three nights in a row. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a wonderful song but your friend has been singing it like a drunk madman ever since his girlfriend broke up with him…

 

You smile and think about that nice stranger whose name you don’t know.

 

“How about we try Runaway by the Corrs?”

 

Your ex-boyfriend looks at you as if you are close to snapping. They allow you to sing it anyway and you swear that this was probably the best performance you have probably given in a month.

 

_Say it's true, there's nothing like me and you_

_I'm not alone... tell me you feel it too_

 

_And I would run away_

_I would run away, yeah..., yeah_

_I would run away_

_I would run away with you_

 

You try to make it sound as haunting as possible, as you have never been moved by such a song before… And you try to deliver your best because you’re quite sure that  _someone’s_  watching…

 

_Cause I am falling in love (falling in love) with you_

_No never I'm never gonna stop_

_Falling in love with you..._

_With you..._

 

You hear applause when you finish, exchanging happy grins with your bandmates, impressed with your delivery on this specific night.

You hesitantly turn your head to see the reaction of your favorite fan –

Only to find the table empty.

 

 

***

 

“Ma’am…”

 

You were busy blowing on your newly ordered cup of tea one time you arrived early. You look up and face that barista who used to be new, grinning at you as if she had a secret. You raise an eyebrow to acknowledge her question.

 

“Have you talked with Mr. Hiddleston lately?”

You look puzzled. “Hiddle-wha?”

 

The barista grins. “He’s one of your avid fans, Miss…” she beams as she says so, slightly blushing as she mentions it. “I believe he’s usually upstairs once you start singing.”

You didn’t really mind finding out about another fan – but the name just sounded as confusing as what she was talking about. “Who is he anyway?” you mutter as you try to take a sip of your tea, checking if it’s already at the right temperature. You have been ordering Mint Tea after that nice man suggested it to you, never realizing how nice it tastes as it slides down your throat.

“Oh!” The blushing barista begins to fangirl. “Haven’t you heard of him, Miss? He’s a very talented actor! He’s been frequenting this café lately to listen to your band!”

 

You raise an eyebrow, hearing about that rumor that has been going on around the café again. But since it’s the Barista talking, well most likely it’s true. “Haven’t really seen him,” you said politely, smiling as you cradle your tea, itching to go upstairs. “Don’t even recognize him, to be honest.”

 

The barista looks at you as if you were mad.

“But Miss, he was the one who suggested to you to buy the Mint Tea!”

 

You almost dropped the cup you’re holding.

 

Apparently, the nice gentleman whose name you don’t know is the same person as everyone has been talking about lately. What really bothered you is the fact that you’ve been conversing and smiling at him the whole time… And you think you’re actually starting to like a pretty faced admirer whom you haven’t really talked to…

 

“Really?” The surprise in your voice seemed imminent, but you try to hide it. “That’s interesting!”

 

The barista just smiled back at you giddily as you try to make your way back upstairs.

 

By the time you get back to your friends, they’re goading you to sing a song again. However, you’re completely at a loss, wondering why you have overlooked the fact that your tall, pretty, golden-haired stranger in the leather jacket is a movie star.

“We’ve been trying to point it out to you for the past few days, sweetie,” your girlfriend whispered to you when you stretch out over your favorite chair. “This is what happens when you don’t watch movies with us,” your ex-boyfriend snorts, making you wonder if he’s having unresolved jealousy issues with you.

 

“Sorry!” you exclaim in defense. “His name just doesn’t click.”

 

Your friends chuckle, muttering something about how dense you are. You hurl one of the sofa chairs at the lead guitarist. “So, what are you singing now?”

You smirk, letting your lip curl.

 

“Just My Imagination.”

 

Your friends deliver a long and taunting  _oooooooh_ , as if they have an idea what you’re thinking about. You wave them off, when your ex-boyfriend steps up and says, “You can’t sing that alone. It’s a duet.”

This is how he usually acts when he feels threatened. You wonder why now. Because you have a celebrity fan? You try to shoo him off, attempting to remind him that he is already courting another girl.

 

“I’ll sing it with you,” he pressed on.

 

More catcalls erupt from your group. Considering he used to have his own band, he has a nice voice – he just doesn’t sing a lot ever since you started taking the lead.

“Fine then,” you said, sort of daring him.

 

Trying to ease the tension in the air, you subtly turn your head around hoping that the table behind the glass walls is occupied. You realize that he just always sat there, he never really went through the doors to congratulate you or your friends… he just sat there, listening to you sing. It was already 9:30, but he still wasn’t there. You shrug and decide to start the session with your friends.

But just as you are about to start singing… you saw his tall figure climbing up the stairs, looking over the glass window as if he made sure that your band is there… that  _you are there_. He took his place (which seemed to have been forever reserved for him) on the table just in front of the glass wall as he smiled at you…

What was ironic was the opening lines of the song you just starting singing…

 

_Each day through my window_

_I watch him as he passes by_

_I say to myself_

_I'm so lucky he's so fly_

_To have a boy like him_

_Is truly a dream come true_

_Out of all the girlies in the world_

_He belongs to you_

 

You decide to tear your eyes away from the window, slightly blushing, much to the knowing looks of your friends as you sing the chorus. You look up at your ex-boyfriend who was about to take-over the second stanza sung by Babyface...

 

_Soon we'll be married_

_And raise a family_

_Have a cozy little crib in the country_

_With two children maybe three_

_I tell you I...._

_Can raise your lies down baby_

_It couldn't be a dream_

_Cause too real it all seems…_

 

You follow-through with your friend’s singing, supplying the second voice – as you sing in unison, making it look as if you were a couple singing this duet. Little do you know that your admirer’s smile starts to fade, as he watched you and your ex-boyfriend return heated glances, singing at each other, wondering what kind of a hidden story untold between the two of you…

 

_Every night on my knees I pray_

_Dear lord, hear my plea!_

_Don't ever let another take his love from me or I will surely die_

_Heavenly, when your arms unfold me, I hear the tender upsity_

_But in reality… He doesn't even know me!_

 

You let your eyes snap towards Tom’s direction for a second when you utter the last lines – and you see a small sad smile sprout from the side of those lips…

 

 

***

 

There was that one fateful day after work, when you found out that your best friend resigned and a whole bunch of awful things happened in the management – you knew you just had to bail out early, and you knew you could since you were doing too much overtime work lately. The stress was getting to your head and you wanted to take a nice bath (and probably a short nap) before you made your way to the café.

 

You stood in a slightly crowded train, holding onto the poles, refusing to sit down so you could be able to shift all your frustration off by standing up… Not to mention,  also by angrily gripping the bars and glaring at the city lights outside the window.

 

You swear that anything can tick you off that moment – someone brushing against your bag, someone tapping your shoulder (even if they wanted to offer you their seat) or someone even innocently glaring at you… Your bad mood was just completely out of hand that you just wanted to stand there, with your earbuds blocking out all sounds.

But that’s when your iPod shuffle suddenly died, causing you to frustratingly scratch your head as you wrench those buds out of your ears with a single tug on the wire. Seems like you don’t have any choice but to listen to the sounds of the train railing through the underground, the small coughs and chatters of the commuters, the –

 

That’s when you heard it. A ringtone.

Not just any other ringtone… It was a song, a very familiar song…

 

_And it's how this all started_

_Oh baby I just want you to know_

_It's hard to say maybe but maybe_

_This time we won't let it go_

 

It was the song you’ve been singing once in a while in the café. It was actually a  _very rare_  song, since it wasn’t played here, in this country, or anywhere… It even was an old song which you heard over the internet, played by an obscure singer, and shared with your friends out of curiosity…

 

But then you wonder how could it be someone else’s ringtone… Could it be that someone there shared the same music tastes as you? Or could it be that they have heard you sing it –

 

You whip your head wildly through the crowd, trying to find the direction of the song… And the owner of the phone… It was playing just  _your_  favorite lines and it was the strongest lyrics of the entire song…

 

_I can't believe it's only yesterday_

_That I was me and you were only you_

_I'm not gonna say it's us now_

_I don't wanna become a cliché_

 

That’s when you see someone fumbling through their clothes, answering their phone – the song suddenly being cut from playing. Ignoring the lurch of the train, you transfer from pole to pole to get a better view of the person…

 

They put down the receiver after taking the short call – only to find you walking towards them.

He whipped his head in your direction – sure he looked different, slightly longer black curly hair, he was actually clean shaven but he still had the same glorious smile and the same twinkle in those blue eyes… which widened in awe when he saw you walking towards him…

 

“I know that song…” you whisper.

 

Tom sheepishly smiles as he pockets his phone in his long blazer. He slightly blushes as he looks up at you. “Well, yes… you did sing it quite a number of times.”

You find yourself in an awkward situation, just letting it dawn on you that you’re talking to an internationally-acclaimed actor – Well now you know after looking him up online.

 

“It’s you!” you almost whisper, awe in your eyes. “My Mint Tea savior.”

 

He chuckles, a soft burst of  _ehehehehe_  fills the otherwise silent train. “I never got to introduce myself to my favorite café diva,” he says cheekily as he extends his hand. “I’m Tom. I’m glad to finally  _actually_  meet you.”

You brightly grin as you enclose your hand around his, telling him your name… not telling him that you already knew his beforehand.

 

 

***

 

You and your ex-boyfriend realize that you do good duets. But this time, there was less tension – and he already brought along his new girlfriend to your “gigs”, considering that you now have a bigger audience watching your friends sing every night, occupying half of the second floor – free of charge.

 

_Where do you go when you're lonely_

_Where do you go when you're blue_

_Where do you go when you're lonely_

_I'll follow you_

_When the stars go blue..._

 

You finish with a bang, with applause filling the air – now that your team has probably opened the glass doors so your singing can be heard throughout the second floor. You give your ex-boyfriend a high-five as he hugs his girlfriend, when the barista approaches you with a cup of mint tea and a piece of paper…

 

It reads:

_Wonderful performance darling! Ordered you a cup of Mint Tea for your next round. I’ll see you after your session, okay? – TH_

 

You deviously swirl your head towards the glass door – now kept open, to find Tom brightly grinning at you as he raised his glass, before sending you a quick wink. You actually burst out laughing when he does – trying to ignore the endless heckling from your friends.

And that’s how it all started.

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the playlist of the songs featured in this short fic:
> 
> 1\. Swissy - How It All Started  
> 2\. Corinne Bailey Rae - Just Like A Star  
> 3\. The Corrs - Runaway  
> 4\. Gwyneth Paltrow & Babyface - Just My Imagination  
> 5\. The Corrs & Bono - When The Stars Go Blue


End file.
